Hypothetically
by lillialyce
Summary: Oneshot. After Ulquiorra says something completely outrageous, all Grimmjow can do is deny, deny, deny.


_If __p__ then __q__. If you do this then you mean that. If you follow a certain guideline, then you are in love. _

.

"Hypothetically, Grimmjow, you love me."

Ulquiorra's boundless pride seeped into his statement, though Grimmjow believed Ulquiorra truly didn't understand anything and was only stating whatever shit came into his mind. Grimmjow ran his fingers through his hair exasperatedly, looking at Ulquiorra's blank and seemingly innocent expression.

"No," he grinned, contentedly leaning against the Las Noches wall. He resisted the urge to laugh. "The fuck d'you get that from?"

Ulquiorra blinked, and for a moment Grimmjow swore it was surprise on his face. Whatever expression Grimmjow would claim to have seen was quickly replaced by a pointed look. "You said it yourself."

"I'm sure I did," Grimmjow nodded, sarcasm quickly leaking into his tone. He was completely, honestly sure he had never said anything along the lines of 'I love Ulquiorra Cifer' to anyone, even if it was theoretical or whatever the fuck Ulquiorra said. "Yeah, I told Aizen that I fucking _love_ you."

Sliding his hands into his pockets, Ulquiorra stared upward into Grimmjow's undaunted gaze. "I do not mean it literally. Through your actions, I've noticed—"

"You noticed _shit_!" he exclaimed loudly, something curiously defensive seeping into his tone. The last thing Grimmjow wanted was for the other arrancar to think he loved the emotionless Cuarta Espada. Of all people, Ulquiorra would be the worst to fall for.

"Through your actions," Ulquiorra continued as though he hadn't been interrupted, "I've noticed you quite possibly feel compassion for me."

"Because, I, the Sexta Espada, have always _dreamed_ of fucking you, Ulquiorra," he smirked, calm again. Hollows didn't dream, nor did they feel love. Grimmjow had to wonder where Ulquiorra was getting his facts from.

Ulquiorra frowned at Grimmjow's words before proceeding to explain his statement, "You asked Aizen-sama about my health after my last mission, did you not?"

"Aizen lied to you, then," Grimmjow shrugged. Artificial sunlight streamed through one of the windows to prove his point that Aizen was a lying, fucked-up shinigami.

"Aizen-_sama_ has no reason to lie." Ulquiorra sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "Kaname-sama also said that—"

"You'll believe that motherfucker?" Something flashed through Grimmjow's eyes.

"Refrain from insulting our superiors," Ulquiorra reprimanded. He paused, and for a moment Grimmjow believed the subject had been dropped. Because, however, he was talking to Ulquiorra, that was not the case. "Surely you've noticed how you—"

"No."

"—enjoy fighting me—"

"No."

"—and recently have taken a liking to—"

"No."

"—touching my face—"

"No."

"—hair—"

"No."

"—and hands."

"No, I didn't notice any of that." Even to Grimmjow's ears, it sounded like a horrible lie. But it wasn't a _lie_; it was just Grimmjow being ridiculously defensive over nothing.

Ulquiorra kept his gaze strong and unwavering in Grimmjow's eyes. "Feel free to explain yourself."

"I fight you 'cuz I'm going to kill you one day," he smirked.

Ulquiorra nodded, satisfied with that answer. It was a natural trait of Hollows, particularly those who at one point were adjuchas, to want to consume and overtake. "And your reasons for repeatedly touching me?"

"It's fun." Grimmjow shrugged, for he had nothing else to say. What else _could_ he say, when Ulquiorra was right?

"I see."

"What brought this on, anyway?" Grimmjow knew that Ulquiorra did not understand love well enough to assume anything. Someone had to have told him something, tried to persuade him to believe _lies_.

"Ichimaru-sama."

Grimmjow laughed, straightening from his position against the wall. "That's fucked up, Ulquiorra." Of course it was Ichimaru Gin, the ever-smiling freak of an ex-shinigami.

"I cannot disregard what I'm told." His words were the only apology Grimmjow would receive for the lost five minutes of his messed up life. "I'll see you in the meeting tonight, Sexta."

Hands still in his pockets, the Cuarta Espada briskly walked away. His hair and coattails blew out behind him, and, in Ulquiorra's eyes, the entire event that had just happened never even took place. Ulquiorra was not embarrassed, not in the slightest, but he saw no need to remember pointless conversations if they only lead to nothing.

Grimmjow watched as Ulquiorra faded from view before exhaling loudly and laughing bitterly. He couldn't help but question how this man, who supposedly knew nothing about love, could figure out in seconds what took Grimmjow ages to deduce.

* * *

**Short and concise. XD That is the full extent of 'humor/cheese' that I can write because I suck eggs when it comes to this. I hope it was at least somewhat funny and/or sweet to you, and, if it wasn't, I hope you at least enjoyed it. ^^**


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